


stuck with me, stuck with you

by MiraclesInApril



Series: stuck with me, stuck with you (chankai fest fic) [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ABO, Heat Sex, Knotting, M/M, sexual but strictly friends kaibaek, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesInApril/pseuds/MiraclesInApril
Summary: Being the youngest omega in his family, Jongin is given to the Parks as per the Treaty. He does not wish to be the Given and he just wishes Chanyeol could see that too.





	stuck with me, stuck with you

**Author's Note:**

> Hi~ here's my fic for the chankai fest, prompt by sekaiyuy.
> 
> I'm sorry this is so far from what you asked for ;; Much love to Nigumaru for hosting the fest ♡ And thanks to Ha for reading through ♡

Jongin is twenty one when the day arrives.

Twelve years of prior knowledge of this fact does not diminish the scope of his apprehension or faint heartbreak. Somehow being aware that your whole life, or at least the first two decades of it, is just to a prep for your real purpose does not make it easier. It feels more like being a gift in the wrapping process to be given away or more accurately, cattle being fattened for the slaughter house.

Some omegas spend years dreaming of this day. Anticipating it. Waking feverish with excitement, shaking as if in a heat daze. The day they get to meet their alpha, their lifemate, how wondrous they think of it.

No doubt, Jongin is shaking.

Something about being given away as a prize to a stranger sends tremors through his body, makes his stomach perform a succession of Olympic standard somersaults.  

“It’s not like you can’t talk to us, Jongin.” Jongdae pulls on the edges, the bow tightening around his throat, “Maybe we can even visit each other.” he adds, running gentle hands down the lapels.

“But we’re not allowed. The Treaty—”

“Is only protocol that is hardly exercised besides the gifting of omegas and union ritual. It’s only in place in case of contingency and no previous alpha that I know of was particularly bent on enforcing it. I doubt your alpha is any different.” his elder brother says firmly, concise in his tender way.

Jongin nods, letting out the breath he had been holding. It is a little comfort to know that he will not be completely isolated from his family. The Treaty handbook —which he pored over from cover to last page, repeatedly, for years— states that he must think of his new pack as his only existing family. They must become his priority. Jongin is not sure he can do that. At least not at the cost of severing all ties with his primary family. His home.

“And of course Baekhyun will come if you ever need him.” Jongdae embraces him from behind and despite being smaller than Jongin in physique, his warmth has always made him feel cocooned, safest.

“Baekhyun will indeed come the minute he smells you.” Jongin sees the said man saunter in from the full length mirror they are standing before, a sizeable box in his arms.

“You won’t smell me from there.” Jongin mumbles, leaning into his brother’s embrace further.

“Are you kidding?” Baekhyun sets the box on Jongin’s bed and comes to wrench him out of his brother’s hold, “No one quite reeks like you.” Baekhyun holds him to his chest and Jongin melts into him, chuckling despite the insult. He squeezes his arms around Jongin, once, twice before poking Jongin’s side and making him jump.

Jongin clings to him tighter, clings to the familiar safe scents around him. “You reek too.”

 

~

 

The procession of his pack arrives promptly at the hotel at nightfall.

In the duration of the journey Jongin had counted trees and deciphered clouds, trying to drown the quiet murmur of apprehension inside him turning into a roar. He had the misfortune of being assigned the same car as Baekhyun, who would not shut up on the subjects of heat reek and the supposed attractiveness of Jongin’s betrothed alpha.

It would have all been bearable, had Father not been driving and had Minseok not been glaring at them from the passenger seat. Curling into Jongdae’s side and drowsing was the only thing that saw him through.

Jongin takes in the great white stone building that towers, the fountain before it spewing water that refracts the lights embedded on its edge. It makes the water glow. The hedge is meticulous and beyond it he sees fields and darkness setting in.  

His stomach roils harder.

He sees packmates heading towards the entrance, all dressed to the nines for the occasion. Jongin loves occasions and dressing up for them but this is not one he is thrilled about. Knowing it's too late for such thoughts and discarding it, he tries to make himself move but his feet don’t budge. Baekhyun chooses that moment to simper up to him and fold an arm around his waist. “I think my friend is right. He’s very far from the embellishing type.” he whispers, nudging Jongin to walk. “Your alpha is a sight for sore eyes.”

“I don’t care.”

“So you’ve been saying. And all _I_ am saying is that you don’t have to love him or bear his pups right away but there’s nothing wrong with taking advantage of his presence, if and when you need to.”

“I know, I know. Please. I know.” Jongin whispers frustratedly.

The amount of times Baekhyun has repeated this, as if to drill it into his head by sheer force of annoyance, is countless. The amount of times Jongin has told him that he has no plans of sleeping with a stranger on his first heat is also countless. Jongin does not have any strength to lend to bickering right now, not especially since Baekhyun knows how resolute he is on his stance, mate or no mate.

“But like I promised, I got you pup. I’ll come running the minute I get a whiff of you.” Baekhyun rubs his side, smiling lopsided at him. Jongin relaxes and allows himself to be pulled through the front doors and into his new life.

 

~

 

Jongin does not spot his alpha right away. There isn’t a moment of locking sparkling eyes and having a romantic epiphany or spiritual transcendence. He doesn’t flush or feel a wave of warmth under his alpha’s gaze.

It is well into the night when they meet. When Jongin has been embedded into the fold of Alpha Mother’s affection, subjected to ceaseless questions and being handed drink after drink as soon as he takes the last sip of his current one.  

Jongin feels foolish to have even worried he would be under microscopic attention for the hall is large and teeming. He was not aware some of his packmates were familiar with members of the Park pack, some much too friendly with each other for it to be a first time meeting. And others were being far too hostile for people who had never associated before.

“You are appalling.” Jongin hears a tall, thunderous looking man say to Baekhyun as he comes up to them. He had lost him to the crowd after his third or so drink or perhaps Baekhyun had slinked away but Jongin could not take another minute of discussing cots and bibs for pups that were not in any of his foreseeable plans.

Knowing well that Baekhyun can handle himself and unwilling to get into the midst of whatever lengthy retort Baekhyun’s stance foretells, Jongin turns on his heels, craning his neck for the exit but before he can get far, he hears his friend call out for him.

And that is the moment he collides with a sturdy chest and tips the red contents of his glass onto their pristine snow shirt.

He follows the crude splotching stain to a dark pair of eyes that pour a bucket of ice water over his head. It feels like the world has stopped, that time has paused on that exact second and that the attention of every person in the room is shining down on him like floodlights.

In reality, the incident does not rouse the attention of those nearby. Only a passing waiter mutters ‘apologies Mr. Park’ and dabs napkins at the clearly hopeless shirt.

“I’m sorry.” Jongin finds his voice, filled with hollow steadiness.

The man, Mr. Park, assess him coldly for another few seconds, his scent fused with overwhelming impatience, bordering anger. Jongin’s stomach continues to drop, even as he keeps his shoulders straight and chin up.

“Will that get this off? Will that reverse time and take back your clumsiness?”

“Excuse me?” Jongin’s mouth drops, ice spreading through him. Mr. Park lets out a long suffering sigh in Jongin’s shocked face and pushes past him and the waiter who appears equally taken aback.

“Jongin?” Baekhyun’s worried face materializes before him. He takes the empty culprit glass from his tremoring hold and gives it to the waiter. “What the hell was his problem, it was clearly an accident.” he frowns in the direction Mr. Park had taken off but it all comes from a distant place, muffled and very distant.

Jongin would love to believe that that was the elder Mr. Park he just met but that was his mate. He is sure of it. The man he is supposed to spend the rest of life with is a already looking to be a prick.

“Come on.”

Jongin can’t help but stare at Alpha Mother for the rest of the night as the ice encasing him from the encounter thaws. He sees her son’s eyes in hers and in the other features that hint of kinship yet he doesn’t understand where her warmth failed to reach her son. He wonders why his mate couldn’t have shown him even a sliver of it.  

Baekhyun holds his hand until he stops shaking and Jongdae, like a shark scenting blood when it comes to Jongin’s distress, comes to wrap himself around his other side. Between the two of them he manages to calm down, declining all of Jongdae’s offer to take him home, that he doesn’t have to do this if he is not ready.

If twenty one years did not prepare him, he would never be ready.

So Jongin shrugs off all the considerate offers and discreetly cloaks himself in the other two omegas’ warmth.

"Chanyeol!" Alpha Mother exclaims and tugs back a passing figure. Jongin puts on a bright smile for the newcomer, as he has been doing all night but his blood turns to ice again as he catches a glimpse of their face. Baekhyun winces, Jongin’s grip becoming a vise.

"Chanyeol, my gosh you're a hard man to find tonight. Darling, I can't believe you left your mate waiting this long to meet you! Chanyeol, this is your lovely mate, Jongin. Jongin, this is your very impertinent alpha, Chanyeol."

Jongin looks at the alpha silently, afraid that he might snap at him again or turn him to ice with one look. It's another shock when the alpha pulls his features into a smile, that's disarmingly bright, and offers a hand to Jongin. 

"Hello Jongin."

It seems they are dismissing the earlier unpleasant incident.

The alpha's hold is firm and Jongin cringes internally at the crescents lining his palm from when his apprehension lead him to the unkind abuse of his nails and palms. The contact with the alpha is not immediately riveting but rather a terribly comfortable warmth that Jongin wants to nest in for the rest of his days.

He tries to take his hand back, before the comfortable feeling makes him say or do something mortifying but the alpha doesn't let go. Instead his considerably larger hands curl around Jongin's wrist and lifts it up to his face. Jongin watches, the moment surreal as a dream, as the alpha presses his lips to Jongin's inner wrist, murmuring "Hello, my omega."

The way he looks at Jongin is a far cry from the coldness he met him with earlier and Jongin's body responds in kind. He is speechless as Chanyeol keeps his lips on his wrist, as if he is stamping the shape of them on Jongin’s skin, as if he is branding his mouth with Jongin’s scent, and wouldn't mind doing so for a long time.

A few coos around them tells him that this display of marking has been registered by those around them and Jongin wishes Chanyeol would let him go before everyone in the venue witnesses how deep his cheeks can reach on the spectrum of red.

"Oh how sweet." Jongin hears his mother say, he sees Baekhyun nod in his peripheral but for a bewitched reason, he cannot look away from Chanyeol.

Then Chanyeol lets go and doesn’t look at Jongin for the rest of the night.

 

The party drags on and as Jongin thinks the night is ending, a hush falls. A man stands at the previously abandoned podium at the head of the room. He is short and stocky and holds himself with an air of great importance. Jongin doesn't need to be told that he is Alpha Father.

Alpha Father clears his throat and smiles at the guests.

"Good evening everyone. It is a great honour to be here today." he looks around, smile intact and heartfelt glint in his eyes, "Several centuries ago, our two clans merged for the first time. In a grossly inhumane, perilous period, the Parks and Kims stood side by side and held hands in the defeat of tyrants. We have been joined ever since."

That, too, was not only the handbook but the most passionately taught topic in history class at school. There is not a single person unaware of the The Reversion, nor its consequences. When omegas were forced out of their homes, rounded up by Redemption; a rogue party that believed omegas were inferior, their uses limited and derogative.

As soon as a child presented as omega, they were taken and sent to centres where their fate was decided. Either sent to be personal servants of alphas or ushered to breeding houses where they were used for birthing alphas and betas they would never raise, omegas left to their care to grow up for the same purpose. 

The revolt began slowly. But it held. Redemption had strength but the rebellion was widespread, larger than they anticipated. Alpha dominant packs united with neighbouring omega dominated packs and fought back when omega rounding time came. Some packs were more prone to producing alphas, some omegas, some betas. The Kims were an omega prominent pack while their neighbours, the Parks, were alpha prominent.

Redemption was defeated and the price of protection was giving the youngest omega of the head omega family to the alpha pack. This part of the lesson never failed to make Jongin scoff.

"Tonight we are here to celebrate and uphold the union of our two packs. Let the union of Park Chanyeol and Kim Jongin be a happy and fruitful one, goddess willing!"

"Goddess willing!" the crowd echoes and Jongin sighs.

 

~

 

"Do take care Jonginnie," his mother says solemnly, patting his back in hard, affectionate thumps.

The hall slowly emptied, guests abandoning the party for more boozy locations or to head home. Chanyeol's car is sitting at the hotel front, waiting for Jongin to say all his farewells.

It's not his mother that is extremely woeful about his departure. It takes Jongdae digging him out of Jongin’s sides to detach Baekhyun. When he glimpses some glimmer in his friend's eyes, he finds his own filling.

"He’ll be alright, won't you Nini?" Jongdae smiles, rubbing circles over both his and Baekhyun's back. Jongin nods, his voice box suddenly pinched. "And he promised to call us if he needs anything. Didn't you?" Jongin nods again. "Take care baby brother." Jongdae hugs him again and Jongin can't stop the tears then. He cries into his brother's shoulder, horribly aware that others are watching but unable to do anything about the sudden bout of emotions.

Letting go is the last thing he is ready to do. His brothers, his family, Baekhyun. They have all been innate parts of his daily life. Not only that but which side of his alpha to be trusted also remains to be seen. Stories of abusive alphas in recent times have been rare but flashes of Chanyeol's icy glare at the accident sends a quiver of dread Jongin's spine.

 

~

 

The car is silent save for Jongin's occasional involuntary sniffles. He wishes Chanyeol sat in the front so he could somewhat pretend he is the only witness to his current breakdown but the alpha sits stoic in the back with him, making a point of not looking at Jongin or speaking to him for that matter. Which Jongin would appreciate, if it didn't feel like a deep chasm of ice lies between them.

'Hello Jongin' are the only civilized words he has spoken to Jongin and perhaps Jongin could forgive that incident if Chanyeol made any effort besides his public display of dominance —which Jongin realizes it was that— to prove that he is not a heartless, tall, handsome case of prick.

Jongin had known not to dream, not regarding alphas and being their omega prize but he wishes for once that he could have been wrong, that being sent to live with a stranger alpha would not be so bad.

It looks to be every inch the dreadful, dreary affair he imagined it to be.

They drive deeper into suburbia, away from the lively city night, the cork in Jongin’s stomach tightening each mile further they drive. The silence lengthens and try as he might, Jongin can’t doze.

At last darkness gives way to lamp posts lining the driveway to Chanyeol’s house. It’s a magnificent structure of wood and glass situated on a forest cloaked hill. The trees give Jongin a sense of comfort but bring further isolation too, feeling like the world is caving in, one towering tree at a time and locking him away from all that he knows and loves

A butler meets them at the door and Chanyeol heads away with a goodnight. The butler, introducing himself as Hyunki leads him to a room that makes him feel small in its largeness and alien in a bed that does not hold fusion scents of his brothers and Baekhyun.

 

Chanyeol is at the breakfast table before Jongin, immersed in a tablet propped up before him. Too immersed to hear or return Jongin's greeting. He takes his seat as a maid comes to serve him, shoveling egg and toast and waffles onto his plate.

Chanyeol remains intent on denying his presence.

The food, the most sublime breakfast he has ever tasted, sticks to Jongin’s throat and struggles to make it to his stomach. He tries to ignore the obvious sting being dismissed like this brings but phantom hands squeeze him tighter and tighter, making breathing difficult.

"I...I was thinking of getting a job." Jongin bursts out, unable to bear the silence anymore.

Chanyeol's hand on the screen pauses. "Did you suppose you were going to be a maid here?"He looks up at Jongin and Jongin wishes he had never spoken, "Or did you think you were going to sit around here doing nothing?"

Jongin's cheeks flush, his plate becomes an object of major interest. Why does Chanyeol need to rebuke him for such a harmless statement? Is this the kind of alpha he is?

The fleeting moment of sweetness when he publicly marked him runs through his mind. Perhaps Jongin was right. Perhaps it was a show of dominance for Chanyeol. There is no one around now. No one that really matters to uphold his 'benevolent alpha' image for. Certainly not for his mate.

Homesickness hits him with iron clad fists and the ache makes him want to curl into a ball on his bed. He needs to hear Jongdae's voice. Baekhyun's. His breakfast plays a match inside him. He feels like hurling.

"I'm going to call my family." Jongin says quietly, testing the waters of what Chanyeol expects from him and what he doesn't expect him to do. He's already annoyed at Jongin, he may as well try his luck.

"Are you asking or telling me?" Chanyeol doesn't look up this time and Jongin doesn't know why it feels worse.

Jongin says nothing as he leaves the table.

 

Mrs. Soojin, as he finds is the maid’s name, pursues him. She hands him a list of names and addresses and Jongin stares at it until she speaks.

“It’s from Mr. Park.” she says with an inclination of her head, twinkle in her eyes as if she’s sharing a secret. Jongin stares on, even more perplexed. “You’re a dance teacher, correct? Mr. Park said these are the local places that are hiring.”

She leaves him with that look that makes Jongin feel excluded on a very obvious secret. It’s almost as bemusing as Chanyeol. Ignore him only to help him?

 _He’s only assisting in getting rid of you,_ a voice sneaks in his head. That is probably it. Regardless, Jongin is grateful. It makes his hunt easier.

Or so he thought.

Hyunki drives him into the city. Unawares to him, he is a celebrity. Every agency and studio makes a fanfare out of his visit.

_‘Oh Mr. Kim, we were expecting you.’_

_‘Alpha’s mate, we’re so pleased to have you.’_

_‘Mr. Kim said you’d be dropping by.’_

_‘It’ll be a great honour for the students to be taught by the alpha’s mate.’_

Jongin doesn’t stay for the interviews. He can predict how he will be treated at each studio. He wants to do his job, his skills credited not be fawned over by people who admire him solely for the mate he was assigned.

He hopes either of the last two addresses will be closer to what he’s looking for.

  


Jongin returns to the house after dark, undecided on which excuse he will use to explain his absence from dinner. He has a feeling Chanyeol doesn't take well to tardiness or any show of impropriety. Once away from the suffocating walls of this house Jongin couldn't bring himself to go back. In fact, after dismissing Hyunki he found himself eyeing the train station and bus stops, his feet carrying him towards them under subliminal instruction from his heart.

Feeling slightly juvenile, like a petulant teen that quarreled with their parent, he burned the hours at the movies and between cafes, telling himself one more, one last before he goes back to his new home.

To his surprise, the house is empty of any unpleasant alphas. Hyunki lets him in and invites him to dinner.

"Mr. Park was caught up at the lab." he tells him, gesturing for him to sit at the set dinner table.

"The lab?" it registers then that Jongin has no idea what his so called lifemate does for a living. If it weren't inherited wealth, Jongin's only other estimate was that Chanyeol's occupation pays well, considering he can afford this grandeur. "What does Chanyeol do?"

"Mr. Park owns a pharmaceutical. Please, eat."

"Will he be joining me or..."

"He normally doesn't comes home until very late, sir. I wouldn't recommend waiting up for him."

"Ah...thank you."

Dinner is a lonelier affair than Jongin anticipated. He doesn't miss Chanyeol's belligerent presence. He's rather grateful he doesn't have to hold his breath.

No, he misses home. He misses the liveliness of dinner with his family. He aches for the laughter and chatter and doting from his brothers. He misses his mother's food, no offence to Mrs. Soojin’s exceptional efforts. He aches for some human contact, someone to talk to who won't address him with a title.

 

Tucked into a soft bed that lodges something hard in his throat, he decides to call Baekhyun. A day into his new life but he has gleaned that Chanyeol is not very bothered with him or anything he does. Jongin understands loud and clear; stay out of my way.

"Baek?"

"Oh no." Baekhyun gasps when he hears Jongin's voice, "You're reeking, aren't you pup?"

"Shut up." Jongin laughs, feeling the tension of the emotionally taxing day dissolve.

"Are you already getting divorced? Let me guess, he snorts at night and you won't sacrifice your sacred first love: Sleep."

"No, shut up." Jongin rolls his eyes, "Why would we sleep in the same bed? It's only been a day."

"Well. I'm not sure but normally very sexy alpha and equally sexy omega leads to frame shaking sex I believe. You both did look ready to do the do on the spot.”

"Baekhyun," Jongin whines, pulling the covers over his head. Regret makes a tentative appearance, wondering if calling Baekhyun would really be as helpful as he thought it would be.

"Okay, okay. Tell me what's got you sighing like a widow."

"He's an asshole, Baek. Grade A, Valedictorian of Assholes."

"I feared you might say that." Baekhyun sighs and Jongin hears shuffling on the other side. "You did say it's only been a day. Right? It's only day one."

Day one. The thought of living the rest of his life in such a hostile environment makes Jongin woozy.

"Is this meant to be comforting? He doesn't want me here, Baek. My alpha hates me."

"Well, did you want to be there? Truly, deeply, sincerely? Do you want to be there?"

"No."

"Exactly. Maybe he doesn't want this either. But it's not like either of you have a choice."

"Exactly!” Jongin yells, exasperated, “He doesn't have to be an asshole about it. It would make the rest of both of our lives so significantly easier if he were at least civil."

"Give it some time, Jonginnie. You don't have to take any disrespect but see if time will sway his tide."

"I miss home." he pouts and makes a face at the ceiling, imagining his brothers pinching his cheeks for the expression. He misses them even more.

"I know you do. We miss you too. But I have something that will cheer you up. Did you open my gift?" there’s the sort of glee in his voice that warns Jongin to be cautious.

"No..."

"What are you waiting for? Check now!"

Groaning, Jongin drags him out of bed and opens the wardrobe that he found miraculously stacked with his belongings, all his bags unpacked. On the floor sits Baekhyun's box, sealed. He takes a pen from his desk and slides it through the tape.

And feels his cheeks burn.

"Well? Well? Jongin?" Baekhyun says excitedly in his ear.

"Oh my god. You are awful." Jongin whispers, despite being alone in the room.

"What? You're going to need them, in case I'm not there or in case your alpha is _truly_ an ass and you want some fun."

"God. Whatever." Jongin slams the doors shut and hops back into bed, trying to torch the image of all the indecent toys out of his mind.

 

An obnoxious shrill of his phone wakes Jongin in the morning.

"I swear to god Baekhyun—" he begins, already plotting his vengeance on his friend for disturbing his treasured sleep.

"Hello, this is Kang Seulgi from Starlight. Is this Mr. Kim?"

Jongin takes a moment or two to respond, jumping upright when the words soak in.

"Yes, sorry. Kim Jongin speaking,”

"Hi Mr. Kim. I'm calling to inform that you got the job. You start tomorrow."

"Oh. Oh! Thank you, Ms. Kang. I'll be there."

"Have a good day Mr. Kim."

Jongin leaps out of bed, legs tangling in the sheets and meeting the carpet with his face. It can't keep him down though, kicking them off and picking himself up, bounding about the room like a drugged kangaroo, performing a small unrestrained dance ritual.

The adrenaline keeps him afloat for the rest of the day. Dancing is encoded in Jongin's DNA, every inch as vital as any nucleotide. Home is made up of family and friends and Jongin is made up of dancing.

And finally, he can dance again.

The buoyant mood makes him consider Baekhyun's words from last night. Perhaps Baekhyun is right. They were both thrusted into this, from the moment they presented. Perhaps this is Chanyeol's way of coping. Jongin can try and break the ice.

"Oh Mr. Kim—” Mrs. Soojin is kneading dough when he enters the kitchen.

"Please, call me Jongin."

"Jongin," she smiles, "do you need something?"

"I do," Jongin wonders if this will annoy Chanyeol more than it will make him thaw but he doesn't dwell on the thought. "Could I please have the kitchen for today? I want to make dinner."

"For Mr. Park?" her eyes crinkle in a knowing smile and Jongin finds himself blushing for reasons unknown. "What do you want to make him? I've got a few recipes if you'd like..."

Jongin grins, embarrassment swallowed by excitement, "I would love that."

 

Mrs. Soojin had packed up and left hours ago. Jongin has one more hour before Chanyeol is supposed to be home.

And he reckons his plan is so far a colossal disaster.

He didn't take into account not knowing where anything was placed in this kitchen. Nor did he consider that he wouldn't know how to work these complex appliances that he never used before. Nor that he probably wouldn't get the recipe right the first time and he probably should have asked Mrs. Soojin to help him prepare it. What kind of peace offering is a burnt dinner, no matter the intentions?

At least he has all the ingredients, Mrs. Soojin made sure of that.

As he wrestles with the instructions, the vestigial voice of his pubescent insecurities slips into his mind. Perhaps if he were a better omega, he wouldn't need instructions or anyone to show him how. He would just be able to to...do. If he were a better omega, Chanyeol would like him from the moment they met. He would be unable to deny or reject Jongin, claim him the minute they walked through the door the first night.

But Jongin had kept growing when all the other omegas his age had stopped, getting taller and bulkier where they remained small and dainty. To make matters worse, he never really paid much attention to what they called his 'duties' growing up. He just wanted to dance, despite what everyone told him he should be doing, like learning household skills and about kids. It was the ultimate source of his confliction, the bane of his existence: wanting to be liked and accepted by all the other omegas —who so kindly sniggered at him— and wanting to live life his own way, betrothed to an alpha or not.

Malignant whispers wage a battle in his head, Jongin unable to drown them out. Once the feelings take hold, he doesn't know how to undo them. In his distracted state, he doesn't see the bottle of oil until his elbow connects with it, sending it flying to the floor. The bowl of kimchi drops out of his hand consequently and Jongin stares at the spreading disaster in paralyzed silence.

"Fuck, fuck," he mutters, moving into action. He moves too quick, his feet sliding under the lubricant. The floor is becoming a good acquaintance as of late it seems. He stays there, not an ounce of strength left in him for this day. Gone is all the enthusiasm or adrenaline that put this stupid idea in his head anyway. All he feels is the resounding ache of the fall, his knees and chest especially not taking to this unceremonious meeting. He hopes it won't be anything serious that will impair him from attending the first day of his new job.

That’s how Chanyeol finds him, staring ahead in despair on the floor, in a pool of oil, and kimchi squished somewhere under his abdomen.

“C-Chanyeol—“ Jongin begins to rise but his hands give away in the slipperiness and his face kisses the floor again. This time he feels it in his teeth and lies still as his jaw aches.

He hears Chanyeol's steps on the marble floor as he walks towards him. "You really are a clumsy one, aren't you?" is sighed in his ear before he is hauled up by his under arms.

Chanyeol's unamused face awaits once Jongin is up and the world is on the right axis again. His heart finds a new exhausting beat as he stares back, the alpha's hands on his shirt burning through the material and sending little flames shooting into Jongin's skin. He has never been this close to Chanyeol before, not even when they had that dastardly accident and Jongin wonders why he never registered how truly good looking he is. How much he wants to those plush lips to test his like they’d done his wrist, regardless that they are currently pursed in austerity.

"What were you trying to achieve here?"

"Make kimchi jjigae."

"Why? Is Mrs. Soojin ill?" Jongin sees the first flicker of emotion other than annoyance or disdain since the party on Chanyeol.

"No..." he takes a deep breath, figuring there is no use in dallying, "I wanted to make it myself so I told her to go home."

Chanyeol draws in a breath too. He slowly lets go of Jongin, peeling his fingers off one by one and Jongin hates how he already misses their heat. The shutter falls over Chanyeol and once again Jongin is facing a cinder block of a person.

"One," Chanyeol turns away, pacing a few steps ahead, "you dismissed my staff without permission." he turns back in a flash, wrath living in the air around him and making Jongin's eyes well, "Two, you made a mess of my kitchen. Three, I have important work to do and no dinner to eat. Do you plan on being a nuisance for the rest of your stay, Jongin?" his voice steadily rises until Jongin's name comes out a shout, fist coming down on the nearest counter and Jongin gasps.

Chanyeol turns away again and Jongin watches his shoulders rise and fall. His apprehension had been for an emotionally abusive life. Physical aggression had never crossed his mind but the fear is ripe. Chanyeol's aura is so grim, his scent is suffocating.

Jongin flinches when Chanyeol turns to him again. Something flashes in Chanyeol. Jongin takes a step back as Chanyeol takes on towards him. Forward, back. There is no way he can physically fight off an alpha, much less Chanyeol whose suit jacket bulges with every shift of muscle. The alpha is a head taller and is constructed of strength and god help Jongin if he decides to turn it on him.

"Jongin." surprisingly, Chanyeol's voice is soft, the softest Jongin has heard it. "I am sorry for yelling."

This is a foreign deamour to the alpha, as far Jongin has seen and words momentarily abandon him. He considers the apology, and despite the shock, he considers telling him that this isn't all he has to apologize for. He nods instead.

"And don't ever try to cook for me again."

His fists curl in frustration, in anger at the clear disdain in Chanyeol's tone, as if he wasn't the one apologizing seconds ago. Truly, Valedictorian Asshole he thinks again.

"Now go get changed. I don't want your mess all over my house."

So much for an icebreaker.

"Be down in an hour." the instruction is hurled over a precarious shoulder as Jongin exits.

 

An hour later Jongin is drawn from his room by strong delectable aromas, tickling his mouth glands and guiding him straight to the kitchen where the mess is gone, Chanyeol is stirring a hotpot, jacket folded over the back of a chair and his sleeves are rolled up. His back alone looks daunting, Jongin imagining what it must feel like to run his hands over the hard flesh, the sinews of those arms that picked him up like he weighed a feather, the length of body that the white shirt shapes with reverent distinction.

Chanyeol is smirking at him when he snaps out of it.

"Hungry, omega?"

"For whatever that is." Jongin mumbles, coming to stand next to him.

"I don't know how you bewitched Mrs. Soojin into giving you her recipe." Chanyeol says blandly.

"I did what mannered people do." the statement flies out of Jongin's mouth, anger sparking again at the dismissal in the alpha's tone. "I asked." he adds sweetly, baring all his teeth in the smile as Chanyeol raises a brow at him.

"Set the table." is all Chanyeol says in reply, as if missing Jongin's implication.

Chanyeol's cooking, Jongin learns, is almost as divine as Mrs. Soojin's. The more he eats, the more it appeals, even more than Mrs. Soojin's and Jongin almost forgets who made it in the sheer delectable savouriness of it.

He looks up to Chanyeol observing him, hand hovering in the air as if he paused to watch Jongin mid bite. He wears another smirk, a self fulfilled glint of greatness in his eyes. Jongin scowls and eats slower, preventing himself with uncanny herculean force that he never possessed before from going for seconds and thirds. Jongin won't let that smirk grow an inch in size.

 

~

 

 

Jongin's first heat comes two weeks after his arrival. A faint torrid ache wakes him past midnight and by the time he gets Baekhyun on the phone, his body feels like it's splayed in a desert, drenched in his own fluids.

Of course his alpha would soothe this burning in an instant. He could make Jongin come with a single touch but even in his heat crazed state, Chanyeol is out of the question.

By and large, alphas cannot be trusted to be around omegas in heat. For that reasons and the glaring one of not wanting a litter of pups nobody is prepared for, it isn't uncommon for omegas to help each other out in heat. The only problem is finding one that can be trusted and Jongin is grateful for Baekhyun.

Baekhyun finds him with a vibrator and a plug inside him, rutting on the slick sheets and crazed with heat. Jongin grabs him as soon as the familiar scent hits his nose, the contact dousing the little flames inside him by a fraction.

"Hey, hey," Baekhyun laughs in greeting. Jongin barely hears it, burying his nose in Baekhyun's neck, grating his body over the other omega's. "Oh, I see someone has missed me." Baekhyun simpers, fingering at the slickness soaking Jongin's bare asscheeks.

"Touch me, please please—” Jongin whimpers, feeling tears burn in his eyes, the ache so, so painful.

"Jongin," Baekhyun coos, taking mercy and running his hands all over Jongin's body with no decided direction. "I'm here now. Come on, let's help you." Baekhyun slots his mouth over Jongin's and Jongin kisses him back, desperation making him flatten himself to Baekhyun while simultaneously trying to remove his clothes. He needs warm flesh on his own to combat the blaze beneath his skin.

Baekhyun pushes away for a moment to shed his clothes and it's a moment too long as Jongin notches up the vibrator to full intensity and shudders as he comes. It barely dims his heat. He lies, aching, before Baekhyun is touching him again, pushing his matted hair from his face and settling between his legs.

Being an omega, he can't satisfy him. But Jongin needs real flesh inside him. It soothes better than any silicon or acrylic or rubber. He gasps as Baekhyun enters him, squeezing his legs tight around his friend as he thrusts in and pushes the vibrator deeper inside him.

"Omega," Baekhyun says in a deeper tone, "how does it feel to have your alpha inside you?"

Jongin giggles despite himself, Baekhyun trying to pull a grave alpha face quite ludicrous. Then Baekhyun gives a sharp thrust that steals the mirth from Jongin's chest.

"Don't laugh, omega." he wraps dainty fingers around Jongin slick cock, "Your alpha will come around. He is going to breed you very soon." Baekhyun says in his neck and Jongin shivers with arousal, the thought of Chanyeol fucking him pregnant making his heat suddenly so much more unbearable.

"He's going to fill you until you are carrying his pups." he sucks on Jongin's neck, hand stroking the length of Jongin's cock in a gentle grip that pressures all the right places to make Jongin gasp and writhe, "He is going to make you hang off his knot. Isn't that your dream, Jonginnie? You've found yourself an alpha who can do that to you. Chanyeol will breed you and then he will breed you again as you dangle off him. You want that, don't you?" Baekhyun coaxes, keeping his hips going, Jongin's sanity disintegrating with each word. He imagines everything he has tried not to ever since he laid eyes on Chanyeol, all the sneaky thoughts that made him leak just a little, all the effortless things he coveted from an alpha.

"Come for your alpha. Come for Chanyeol."

Jongin is a goner then, arching with a long moan of Chanyeol's name on his lips. Baekhyun keeps fucking him until he comes too, and keeps fucking him until Jongin is shaking for him to stop, weakly pushing him away.

Baekhyun throws himself down next to Jongin, making sure his cock is aligned with Jongin's ass that is oozing copious slick and come. Smearing Jongin's own come over his skin, he laughs in Jongin's ear, "You totally have the hots for your Valedictorian Asshole alpha."

"Please. He's just a hot body, that's all there is to him." Jongin mutters sleepily.

"Right. Sleep. I'm here if you wake up."

 

They don't leave Jongin's room that day. Mrs. Soojin comes knocking at lunchtime but her face tells them that she has scented what's going on by the time a shirtless Baekhyun throws the door open. She leaves with a faint blush and a promise to leave meals and pain relievers outside the door.

Jongin does not stay satiated for long and Baekhyun is prepared for him, adding a dildo to his own cock inside him which has Jongin more vocal than before, especially as Baekhyun rasps more dirty things that Chanyeol will do to him. Jongin's arousal spikes the minute Chanyeol's name is mentioned, his gut twisting so tightly that he spurts over himself each time. And Baekhyun exploits this effect to the max, until the sheets are drenched and the bed needs to be stripped.

The next morning, breakfast is the most tense Jongin has ever experienced. Jongin was content with staying in his room for his week of hell— made milder by Baekhyun’s presence— but Baekhyun did not share the sentiment. He was determined to meet Chanyeol, with or without Jongin accompanying him.

The moment Jongin stepped into the room, Chanyeol’s neck had snapped to his direction. His eyes were already taking on a red hue. Jongin stared back, immobilized yet wanting profoundly to take the few steps to Chanyeol and rut on his lap.

The crack of the tablet screen where Chanyeol had the edges in a deathly grip snapped them out of it. Along with Baekhyun’s loud merry greeting. Which gave Jongin deja vu as Chanyeol promptly ignored.

Baekhyun is chatty as Chanyeol is reticent. They mix like paraffin and water.

"So Chanyeol, what do you do?"

"Work."

"My. You must be the densest alpha I've ever met." Baekhyun says in awe and Jongin tries to cover his snicker behind a cough.

Chanyeol ignores the remark but Jongin sees the muscle tic in his jaw. He squeezes Baekhyun's hand under the table. Finally, Chanyeol has met his match.

"You must be feeling lucky you got Jongin. You know he had so many admirers? He was practically the envy of all other omegas. It's a shame he ended up with you." Baekhyun says conversationally. "Alpha Lee was really taken with him." he bites into his breakfast with a sigh, disregarding Chanyeol's sudden stillness.

"I believe he wanted Jongin to come and work at his dance studio. Jongin is something of a prodigy, in case you didn't know, and he said his offer is always open. They are good friends you see." Baekhyun continues, unaware or uncaring —most likely the latter— of Chanyeol's darkening expression.

Jongin tries to hold his laugh, in complete respect and admiration of his friend who can make an innocent truth weigh with such raunchy connotations.

Alpha Lee, Lee Taemin, is a long time friend and dance rival. They started out as partners in the same dance school but soon it became evident that they both outskilled their peers and have ever since been pitted against each other. They took the challenge gracefully in the studio, entertaining the friendly competition but never let it affect their relationship outside the practice rooms. Taemin had offered Jongin a place at his studio and he had been so tempted to evade his fated responsibility and live a path carved by his own hands.

Chanyeol's glaring at Baekhyun now but the omega eats away, relaxed and oblivious. Jongin wonders if it's jealousy that's making Chanyeol behave this way or inane sense of brutishness at someone threatening something he perceives as his.

A leg brushes over his briefly and Jongin turns to his friend to see that he’s still obviously tearing into his food. A look over to Chanyeol shows Jongin that his glare has turned into something simpler. Something he couldn’t have imagined identifying on Chanyeol.

Desire.

Increased dampness he begins to feel makes him cross his legs a little tighter, praying that he stays coherent for just a little longer. Baekhyun had promised that they wouldn't stay down long. He should stay sated for longer but Chanyeol's unwavering gaze or presence isn't doing him any favours, even less the way a barely perceptible growl comes from his throat.

Jongin feels Chanyeol’s desire, feels his own curl inside him, wanting Chanyeol's dominance unleashed on him, wants him to scent and mark his whole body, make him reek with his smell and claim for everybody to know he's his.

 _Fuck,_ Jongin thinks, shocked at his own train of thoughts. It's the heat, he tells himself quickly, looking away. It's futile, though, as he can smell his own arousal and is sure the others at the table can too. He holds his fork tighter, feeling Chanyeol still focused on him.

 _He's going to breed you. He's going to breed you. He's going to breed you._ He thinks of Chanyeol’s hands on him, strong enough to crack a screen effortlessly, those hands on his legs, on his thighs, between them.

"Yes alpha," Jongin moans, eyes closed and shuddering as he comes, _he’s going to breed_ you looping in his mind. He opens his eyes to silence and a jaw slacked Chanyeol that's making the table vibrate.

"Excuse me, sorry," Baekhyun stands, before the silence stretches and shrouds Jongin for his grave, "time to go fuck the brains out of this omega." he pries the cutlery out of Jongin's hold and helps him stand, Jongin's legs refusing to unclench in fear leaving a trail of fluids dribbling down his legs on the floor.

"Taemin? Really?" Jongin asks once they're back in the safety of his room. Taemin might be an alpha but Jongin could never see past the scrawny boy he met when he was five, telling him haughtily that he was a better dancer than Jongin then sharing his milk box at break.

"'Yes alpha'? Really?" Baekhyun shoves him on the bed and climbs on top of him, his grin maddening degrees of insufferable. Jongin shimmies him off and buries his head in his pillows. He can't bear the thought of what he just did in his own mind, let alone take Baekhyun's taunting.

Luckily Baekhyun is not in an ungracious mood as he lets Jongin be and pushes into him from behind.

 

~

 

Baekhyun leaves on the last day of his heat.

"I would stay for a few more days, Valedictorian Asshole may be a bully but he can hardly put his money where his mouth is. It's fun watching him squirm." Baekhyun says with a delighted grin.

"But?"

That first day had not been the last of Baekhyun vs Chanyeol and Jongin had lived his embarrassment down enough to want to see second and third rounds of Baekhyun getting under the self important alpha's skin.

"But I have a date."

"A date?"

"Yes." he smiles but it isn't his blossoming infectious one and Jongin sits up.

"Who is it?"

"You remember that alpha you saw me speaking to at the party? Before the accident?"

"The one who was mean to you?" Jongin's mouth drops. His mind races for explanations as to why his friend would go out with a person so crude to him out of his own volition but the only conclusion he is coming to is that Baekhyun has lost his mind.

Baekhyun comes to sit next to him then, an air of diffidence about him that Jongin has never seen on him before.

"I like him, Jongin." his smile is shy, aimed at the floor.

Baekhyun doesn't know what hit him when a yelling Jongin tackles him on the bed. Jongin has never seen Baekhyun fazed by anyone. Lusting over alphas, sleeping with his fair share of them, yes. But he discards them all like toys whose novelty wears off. Blushing, shy Baekhyun is a case of never has been and Jongin feels sincere joy for his friend.

"Take care Hyun. Call if you need anything. And stay safe."

"Yeah yeah pup, don't get sappy on me. I just like the guy, I'm not having his pups."

 

Jongin's second, third, fourth heats all come and go. He tried to deal with the second one on his own but too many times he came close to bending over at Chanyeol’s feet and begging for his knot so he learned his lesson and called Baekhyun whenever he needed him.

Chanyeol is scarce. He misses more dinners than he attends and breakfast is terse affair or short replies, snapping if either of them wakes on the wrong side of the bed or at worst, Chanyeol doesn't show up for breakfast either. Besides the minor battles with his dearest mate, Jongin might as well be living on his own. Chanyeol does not care about him in the least. He doesn’t show any interest in his whereabouts or knowing about him or spending time together.

It is a blessing; in a roundabout way he got what he wished for. He's living his own life, neither tied nor catering to the wishes of anyone else. He works hard at the studio, taking on extra lessons, giving hours to kids who show affinity for the art and spending the rest of his time locked away and coming home with many soaked outfits and bone tired, unable to dwell on his mate that rejects that fact of his existence.

And then there are moments where he's in the car or sees parents picking up their children from the studio, holding hands and collecting the entity of joy they created together, sees two sharing a silent moment of love, their gazes loud, sees heads lean together and loneliness digs barbs into his guts.

In the moments he allows himself to acknowledge the profound little secrets he buries deep in a crevice of his heart, spending the rest of his life like this is truthfully a bleak notion.

 

His heat breaks out three days early this time. Trying to drown the fact that dreams of Chanyeol has anything to do with it is futile so he doesn't try.

He is exhausted.

Even his heat can't drown how miserable he feels. How much being ignored by his mate actually weighs him down. How lonely he feels, despite having happy relations with so many outside these four oppressive walls.

He calls in at work and by the end of it, he has no remaining strength to dial Baekhyun's number. Besides, he doesn't want to. It won't cool him, down not even in the least like it used to. Jongin feels the conviction somewhere between his burning body and fatigued heart.

Lying in bed, he imagines Chanyeol touching him in all the ways he covets and comes untouched, again and again until he passes out.

 

"Chanyeol!" It's dark when he comes to again with Chanyeol's name. The heat has escalated, like there are two fires, one beneath his skin and coating it.

He stumbles out of bed, trying to make his way to Chanyeol's study where he spends most of his time when he's home, crawling when he can't get up. The room is empty but Chanyeol's scent here is as thick and as palpable as a real presence and soothes Jongin more than any toy or fellow omega.

He drags himself towards the couch in the corner of the room, letting Chanyeol's scent overwhelm him.

Jongin doesn’t make it to the couch. It’s too far away. With trembling arms, he reaches under his body and wraps a weak fist around his cock. He feels wetness trickle down his legs, coat all the way to his balls where he feels the ache. Somewhere between his second orgasm— that comes too fast— and his third, Jongin loses consciousness.

He regains it when he hears shuffling through waterlogged senses.

A warm hand touches his back but it’s a patch of coolness on his flame ridden body. Then he’s being lifted, a vague whisper of his name in his ear. He smells arousal, his and somebody else’s and he wants to taste the smell, wrap it all around him and ride it.

He opens his eyes and sees red, two discs of blood staring back.

“Alpha Chan,” he doesn’t recognize the purr that comes out of his mouth. A part of him that was hollow is filled, gives him strength to _want_ even harder. The arousal burned but now it throbs, aflame but fulfillment within grasp. Chanyeol’s hands on his hips squeeze tighter. Jongin wonders how fast he can get Chanyeol’s pants off and sit on his knot. He can feel Chanyeol under him, hard and getting harder still. He needs it inside him. He needs Chanyeol so bad, it’s almost worse than the heat pain.

“Alpha,” he grabs Chanyeol’s hips, moves his own down, throws his head back at the instant pleasure, the ache inside him satisfied and expanding all at once. He could come like this. He needs Chanyeol to touch him but going like this, he could come from Chanyeol’s need for him thick in the air, Chanyeol’s warm body hard under him.

“Come on alpha,” Jongin pushes harder, packing all the plea he can into his voice, “use me. I want you— I want you to,”

Chanyeol’s eyes flash brighter. They’re plunged into darkness again as he closes them. Jongin can feel the breath Chanyeol takes, like they’re one connected mass swallowed by lust that demands to be satiated.

Then Chanyeol is running a hand down the line of his back. The seconds span as Chanyeol moves as if he is soaking the texture of Jongin’s skin, the warmth and imperfections mapping it, until he has a finger that slides easily into Jongin’s leaking hole.

“Ah,” Jongin moans, muscle contracting, a smile and a sigh fighting for the shape of his mouth. Chanyeol sits straighter, the finger sinks deeper and Jongin lets out another moan that elicits a hollow rumble from Chanyeol’s chest.

There’s no warning for the other three fingers that follow. Or the speed Chanyeol goes at. It’s not like Jongin needs any preparation, he’s been fingering himself and has not stopped leaking since his heat began but his imagination could never have prepared him for the satisfaction of Chanyeol’s fingers inside him, how he feels every little groove and roughness of his skin, how he easily teases his wild spot, how much more he could give him with such little effort.

Jongin is clinging to Chanyeol as Chanyeol fingers him like it’s his only goal, like the only objective he’s ever seen is making Jongin come.

“Your slick soaked to my cock, Jongin. You’ve made me wet too. What a messy boy.” Chanyeol says into his ear but it sounds stretched thin. He holds Jongin’s nape and Jongin is certain without him anchoring him, he’d writhe his way to the floor. “How many times have you come today? Were any of them satisfying? Come on,” Chanyeol thrusts all his fingers up, “one,” he jams into Jongin’s prostate, “more,” and again, “time.” and again. On cue, Jongin spears up and back, holding onto Chanyeol for dear life as the best orgasm he has ever had almost knocks him to the floor.

 

When Jongin comes to next, there's sunlight, a foreign room and a familiar smell that rouses his body in several ways. Or perhaps not that foreign, he realizes as he looks around. It has the same layout as his room.

He hugs the cover closer to his face, taking a whiff of the scent embedded in it. He tucks the edges into his sides, cocooning himself in it.

He’s still in heat but the agonizing burning is gone, most likely thanks to being encased in Chanyeol's scent, Chanyeol's presence hanging in the room. He can feel his body call for attention, his cock yearning his fist or preferably Chanyeol’s but it’s the most bearable the ache has been.

The previous night comes back to him as he stares at the ceiling. Chanyeol's study. Chanyeol fingering him in his lap. Chanyeol dirty talking him. Chanyeol giving him what he needs. Chanyeol.

He moves the cover off part way. Suddenly it’s unbearable again as the previous night plays in his mind as fresh as if it were the present. He sinks a finger in himself and sighs upwards, remembering vividly the feeling of other thicker fingers filling him, fucking his copious slick back into him. His hips move of their own accord, imagining what it would be like to be with Chanyeol in his bed, how many ways the alpha could get him to come, how many times.

He thinks of how Chanyeol's arousal felt on his stomach when he called him 'alpha Chan', how Chanyeol's teeth had scrapped along his throat as he fingered him harder and faster and suddenly Jongin is coming but burning hotter, hotter and hotter and completely unsatisfied. The need for the alpha is unendurable.

He swiftly gets out of Chanyeol's bed, his come smearing all over the bed and dripping onto the carpet and Jongin bites his lip, glowing at how his alpha’s room will smell of him. A subconscious part of him preens further at the fact that Chanyeol brought him to _his_ room and had not taken him back to his own or a guest one.

Before he goes far, a familiar box on the nightstand catches his eye, his special box from Baekhyun. Grabbing a lengthy black toy and a robe set at the feet of the bed, he heads out.

 

Chanyeol is in his study, just as Jongin suspected. Jongin doesn't bother with explanation or words, unable to manage them either way. He ignores Chanyeol's incredulous face as he lets the robe drop at the door, a little ounce of patience in him as he approaches Chanyeol slowly, moving his hips that bear the marks of the alpha’s harsh grip from last night, in his purest form. Chanyeol’s incredulity is palpable as Jongin slides between the desk and Chanyeol and sets himself on it. He spreads his legs, hooking each one over the arms of Chanyeol's chair and leans back.

Then he holds out the dildo he brought with him. He can feel the wetness trickle onto the desk, onto Chanyeol’s sheets. But all he can think is how much he is ready to beg until Chanyeol turns him over and fucks him silly with the toy. The arousal at being laid out in front of his alpha like this, naked and needy and unsure whether Chanyeol will take him runs deeper than his heat.

"Alpha Chan."

Jongin lets out a whimper in anticipation when Chanyeol takes the phallic object from him. He spreads his legs wider, some papers and stacks of books falling off the edge. Chanyeol's expression flashes with lust before it shutters. Then he eases the dildo into Jongin's moist hole, burying the length of it in until only the edge where he holds peeks out.

Jongin's mouth drops lower and lower with every millimeter Chanyeol pushes in. He gives an experimental prod and Jongin stops himself from biting his lips, lets Chanyeol hear every little gasp and modulation of his breath.

"Feel good, omega?" Chanyeol leans forward, a hand sneaking under Jongin's inner thigh. He jerks Jongin closer, his ass almost hanging off the edge and the papers squashed underneath him. Jongin wonders if they were important.

Jongin nods, gripping Chanyeol's wrist in return and pushing the dildo deeper. Chanyeol curses under his breath and pushes even harder, his nails digging into Jongin's skin. He pushes and pushes in, each thrust taking Jongin backwards, his elbows barely keeping him up against the force. He struggles to keep himself upright altogether, his hold on Chanyeol’s wrist becoming more of a stretch as he faces the ceiling in pleasure.

" _Alpha_ , alpha, _alpha,"_ Jongin moans as the head probes unkindly into his prostate, again and again, Chanyeol’s nails embedded on the inside of his thigh.

Jongin lies flat on his back, more objects falling to the floor as he grips what he can of the desk. Chanyeol continues at a hard steady pace that reaches Jongin's prostate and almost sends him over the edge. Each time Chanyeol brings him back, Jongin is one step closer to insanity.

Jongin isn’t aware of when he slips into his orgasm, it’s happens so violently that it seems gentle, almost as if it’s not happening. He writhes like a preternatural force has taken over his body, Chanyeol’s approving hum adding to the chaos putting fireworks in his veins, exploding through his body. There is not a single item left on the table by the time Jongin stills but a growing pool glistens on the dark hardwood.

“Alpha, Chanyeol,” Jongin hums in the deep content of the final sparks of his high.

“Get out.”

Jongin sits up quickly, his head spinning at the speed. Chanyeol pushes his chair back and stands, the slick dildo falling to the floor. There’s not a speck of brown in his eyes and his stare speaks violent strength.

“What?”

“I need you to get out. Now. Go.” he turns away from Jongin, a hand holding his hip and another rubbing his face aggressively.

Jongin tries to find something to say, unwarranted sadness permeating the walls he’d built at being dismissed so soon, without reason. His legs shake as his feet touch the carpet, weak from his orgasm. As he brushes by the alpha, he feels a kick in his gut. Chanyeol’s scent feels like a punch. Arousal, anger and arousal. It’s all Jongin can decipher from it.

Whether it’s his heat or Chanyeol getting under his skin and into places he shouldn’t be, Jongin doesn’t know what exactly it is that compels him. He can’t explain why, only that his satisfaction was short lived and he needs Chanyeol so soon again. He shuts the door behind him and gets to his knees.

Through the keyhole he sees Chanyeol pace behind his desk, undoing the top buttons of his shirt. His other fist clenches by his side and he mutters things under his breath that Jongin can’t make out. He follows Chanyeol leaning back against the front of his desk, the red in his yet to fade.

Jongin stops breathing as Chanyeol reaches for his buckle, large hands that are riddled with veins visible from where Jongin spies making the metal look miniature. He doesn’t breath or look away as Chanyeol pushes his briefs down and takes out his cock. Doesn’t dare do either as Chanyeol closes his eyes and starts stroking himself.

Jongin feels the arousal so deeply at Chanyeol’s size, it’s near enough to come right then. He keeps watching, unable to help rutting a little against the door. Chanyeol’s balls hang heavy, his knot almost as big at rest. Jongin holds in a moan, all his fantasies of a real alpha’s knot clouding his mind. He wonders how much come Chanyeol holds, how long and hard he’d come inside Jongin before his knot makes sure it all fills his belly.

 _Fuck, fuck,_ Jongin is sure Chanyeol heard his whimper.

If the alpha heard him, he doesn’t show it. Instead he does something that makes Jongin’s eyes well as he releases against the door, his mouth open in a gasp and holding the door frame so he doesn’t scratch at walls.

“Jongin,” Jongin can hear Chanyeol moan his name even from here. He sees his mouth shape Jongin’s name, over and over between gasps as he spills on the floor, on his thigh. Jongin fists his fingers in his mouth as he sees how accurate his imagination had been, the alpha oozing long after he stops spurting. With frightening viciousness, Jongin wishes he was at Chanyeol’s feet, licking up every drop that fell to the floor or better yet, catching it all with his throat, Chanyeol’s cock deep in his mouth, his knot corking him tight.

He collapses to the floor, his third orgasm of the morning washing over him. He spasms with the same intensity as when Chanyeol was fucking him with a toy, the image of Chanyeol stroking himself and coming to Jongin burned in his mind.

The sound of the door opening paralyzes him.

Chanyeol freezes mid-step, clearly taken aback. Perhaps his own desire was too strong to scent Jongin behind the door.

Then his features school into a scoff, a scan of Jongin’s naked body from head to toe— that somehow doesn’t feel arousing or sexy at all— before he’s stepping over Jongin’s body, as if Jongin is nothing more than a misplaced piece of rubbish that he will call Mrs. Soojin to clean up.

Jongin picks himself off the floor as gracefully as he can once Chanyeol has disappeared downstairs. The shame burns harsher than his heat that is all too soon back with a vengeance. Of all the times he was ridiculed for being born wrong, of all the humiliations he has ever suffered, nothing compares to this. He goes about the rest of the day on autopilot, his body present but his mind wallowing in the marshes of dejection.

He wonders why he made himself vulnerable to Chanyeol in the first place when he was more than aware of his nature. In a sudden burst of hurt and rage, he makes a solemn vow to himself. He will never be vulnerable to Chanyeol again. He will never need or want him. Hastily making his way to the cabinet of medicines in the bathroom down the hall, he feels serenity descend over him at having made a decision, a sort of closure however improper.

He is about to swallow the pill down when a figure walks by the open door then reverses. A head peeks around and Jongin freezes, despite telling himself that he isn’t doing anything wrong.

"Jongin?"

Chanyeol's gaze goes to the packet that drops to the floor and dread leaches feeling from Jongin.

"What. Did. You. Do." Chanyeol enters, taking a step for each word, speaking through gritted teeth and walking as if he is seven feet.

Jongin almost succumbs to that helpless Chanyeol makes him feel when he lets his brooding alpha out and the vow he owes to himself blares like a foghorn through his mind, disarming the fear that almost takes hold.

"What do you mean?" Jongin asks blankly.

"What are you doing with this?"

"Stopping my heat." Jongin shrugs. He can show as much nonchalance as Chanyeol can show irritation.

"Why."

"Because,” Jongin takes a deep breath, his voice a calm he feels the opposite of. “you are a terrible alpha and I can't take this anymore. What? You're gonna what? Hit me? Lock me in a room and prevent me from taking them? I'm done with you, Chanyeol.” Chanyeol’s stunned face is almost satisfying, if Jongin didn’t feel so exhausted, feel so much like crying.

“All you've done is treat me like a pest under your skin ever since you saw me. You belittle me and make me feel like the most redundant creature in existence. I get that you don't want me but I didn't want you either. The least you could do is try to be humane. Do you know how lonely I feel? Waking up every morning knowing my lifemate wants nothing to do with me? Won't even talk to me without walking away irritated? I can't even try to be with anyone else, Chanyeol. I'm the stupid alpha's mate and I'm supposed to be so happy about that, feel so blessed but god forbid I've been paired with Satan's personal vessel. I'm tired Chanyeol. I can't do this. Just let me be. I stay out of your way, now you stay out of mine."

Chanyeol looks as if he has just been disemboweled. Jongin has never seen him so pale.

"I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. But I can't watch you ruin your health. Those pills aren't safe, Jongin. You read the back, didn't you?"

"What?" Jongin laughs bitterly, "You're afraid I’ll mess my hormones up too much to breed your heirs?"

"No, Jongin.” Chanyeol steps closer and Jongin steps away, “Its side effects aren’t limited to hormones. Trust me, Jongin. I know this.”

Jongin hopes he displays well how absurd Chanyeol’s request of trust sounds.

“Jongin— Can you— I have to attend an urgent meeting but— I’ll help you okay? I’ll help you. Just please, don’t take the suppressant.”

Jongin eyes the small round pill on the floor. The heat and pain running deep urge him to pick it up. Chanyeol’s frenzied face implores him not to. It should be an easy decision, considering all Chanyeol has said and done. He could tell himself it’s the grave possible side effects that make him hesitate, make him consider Chanyeol’s offer. It’s futile to lie to himself though. It’s Chanyeol that makes him hesitate, it’s Chanyeol that he wants.

"You’re going to fuck me and then you’ll step over my body.”

"No— Jongin. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know that you are.”

“I know. I’ll prove it to you. Just let me help you.”

“Fine.”

“I’m going to make a few calls. I need to cancel my meetings. Wait for me in my study, I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

 

Jongin stands by the window, looking out into the forest, as if it will keep him cooler here with the heat trying to break out of his skin.

Thoughts of Chanyeol he had been keeping at bay invade as his resolve weakens, recalling how the alpha fingered him and gave him his first best orgasm, how he spoke so much promise with that dildo without saying a word.

Sweat matts his hair to his temples, glosses his skin as the fever takes harsher hold. He rubs a palm into his cock, sighing against the window as he smells himself, sweeter and thicker in the air. If he had enough strength, he’d scoop his slick and lick it up.

Phantom hands he’d been longing for appear around his waist. Except that they are not phantom at all as the owner whispers against his neck.

“Were you going to stand here until you come or go crazy with need?”

Chanyeol lowers a hand to his groin, covers Jongin’s with his and moves in lazy circles that make Jongin rest back against his sturdy chest, against his warmth and audible heartbeat.

“Do you know how long,” Chanyeol abandons his groin and steals under his shirt, his fingers crawling up his lower abdomen, higher and higher, Jongin feeling fire to his core, “I have wanted this? Wanted you?”

Jongin can barely pay attention to the words, the mere fact that Chanyeol’s touching him so pleasant and pleasurable, feeling his deep husky rumble on his back, the vibrations against his neck delicious. But then what Chanyeol said registers and for a moment the lust haze clears.

“You what?”

“I hated you, Jongin. From the minute I saw you. From the minute you spilled your drink on me.” Chanyeol makes the hate confession sound like a lewd praise. The hair on his skin, all along his neck rise as Chanyeol runs his lips along the sharp column of it. His hand runs back down Jongin’s abdomen, slow like the previous night, as if this is another lesson in Jongin’s anatomy and he intends to learn well. He fits his fingers under the band of Jongin’s jeans, under his briefs, reaches his cock.

“I wanted to take you straight upstairs,” Chanyeol continues, enclosing Jongin’s cock in the tight space, Jongin closes his eyes and bares his neck for the alpha’s nuzzling, “slowly peel off all your clothes.” Jongin further relaxes into Chanyeol, his breathing picking up, at Chanyeol’s words, at Chanyeol’s ministrations, “Tie you to the four corners of the bed.” he takes Jongin’s hand from his crotch and pins it to his side and Jongin can’t do anything but let him, let the ecstasy slowly creep into him, “And fuck you through two, three heats.” he kisses a spot beneath Jongin’s jaw, kiss turning to suction. He moves down, focusing on the base of Jongin’s throat where he is particularly sensitive and Jongin moans, the sound coming out mangled as he tries to suppress it.

Chanyeol picks another spot, then another and another, leaving poppies on a blank canvas as he goes and Jongin is squirming quietly in his hold, as a hand continues to stroke and squeeze around his cock. Then Jongin is coming and Chanyeol is kissing his cheek, taking him in like he has the rest of days to memorize the exact angle Jongin bends his neck, the exact pitch of his moan, the shade of his blush, the drowsy sharpness in his eyes.

Jongin is almost lulled to sleep as his orgasm brings him down, down down into comfortable warmth in Chanyeol’s arms. Until Chanyeol turns him around, pushes him up against the glass. He watches the alpha as his heat haze takes hold afresh, pliant for Chanyeol’s intentions.

Chanyeol starts from the bottom of his shirt, working his way up. Jongin starts his own exploration, reaching out for the obvious strain in the alpha's pants. He looks up when he touches it, sees Chanyeol’s naked reaction, the unmasked way Jongin’s touch affects him. “Go on omega,” he says but there’s not a hint of contempt in the way he says it, only need and affection that takes Jongin aback, “touch me.”

As Chanyeol unbuttons, Jongin thumbs and caresses Chanyeol’s erection, lustier at his hisses, groans and outright snarls. When Jongin is shirtless, Chanyeol pauses. His eyes roam Jongin’s skin from his belly button to his nipples and Jongin imagines what it would feel like to have Chanyeol’s lips all over him.

He comes forward again and holds Jongin by the shoulders, wandering down, eyes following, pulling Jongin closer almost involuntarily.

“Alpha,” Jongin moans, the way Chanyeol’s hands cover his waist almost breadth to breadth makes something in him curl. He can feel Chanyeol’s desire, his need to mate Jongin, to breed an omega in heat. How Chanyeol is governing his hardwired instincts in favour of admiring his body makes Jongin feel like the most beautiful omega under the alpha’s eyes.

Jongin takes Chanyeol’s hands and sets them aside. He steps closer and mirrors Chanyeol’s previous action, unbuttoning Chanyeol’s shirt from the bottom. His lips feels dry under Chanyeol’s gaze and as he wets them, Chanyeol follows, head inching lower and lower as if hypnotized by Jongin’s mouth.  

He feels the muscles of Chanyeol’s shoulders as he pushes off the shirt, feels the bulging cords of his arms shift under his hand, briefly intertwines hands to feel the prominent veins before letting the shirt drop to the ground. He feels for the thrum under Chanyeol’s right pectoral, slowly lifting his other hand to his chest as well. Lingering over every little expanse of skin, every groove, every furrow, Jongin resists the urge to get on his knees.

Before Jongin can once more give attention to his erection, Chanyeol shoves him back against the window. He steps out of his pants swiftly and pulls Jongin’s off too and before Jongin can wonder what to expect next, Chanyeol’s naked body is pinning him, kissing him hungrily.

Jongin cups Chanyeol’s face, opens his mouth and lets him kiss wet into submission. Chanyeol lifts his thigh and hitches it around his hip. Then he’s inside Jongin, fast and hard and making Jongin’s eyes fly open in a gasp.

He shoves in up to his balls then out until his head is the only thing stretching Jongin open and then he’s deep inside Jongin again and Jongin can barely breathe.

“Look, Jongin. Anyone can see us from here. Anyone can see me breed you.” Chanyeol smirks at him, stealing quick hard kisses between his sentences that make it impossible for Jongin to respond. He hitches Jongin’s legs higher and thrusts harder, the ground feeling like it’s vibrating, the glass soon to start rattling.

After some ferocious thrusts that make breathing impossible, Chanyeol pulls out and turns him around, chest first into the window, back inside Jongin before he can whine.

“Is this enough?” he braces his hands on the glass over Jongin’s head, trapping him easily. His thrusts are punishing, a pause between each as if he is gathering all his strength before snapping his hips up hard into Jongin. Jongin can utter nothing more than gasps and long moans that break with Chanyeol’s force, torn between watching their reflection or closing his eyes and letting Chanyeol take over his mind.

The decision isn’t his to make as Chanyeol bites his neck— not a claim bite but enough to hurt and pleasure— and Jongin comes on the glass. Chanyeol is still fucking him when he opens his eyes again, his nerves prickling to his toes and begging for a break which Chanyeol doesn’t intend to give.

He’s being hauled from the window, across the room to the couch, bent over the arm before Chanyeol is thrusting into him fast.

“We’re not done yet.” Chanyeol says in his ear, Jongin’s face buried in the leather, “How many orgasms do I owe you? How many heats did I let your beautiful body go untouched?” He fucks Jongin devil-may-care while holding him tender around the waist, Jongin shaking as his body screams for Chanyeol to stop, for Chanyeol to fuck him till his heat subsides, “No, let me give you what you deserve.”

Jongin had no clue what Chanyeol’s fast was. Not until now. Not until Jongin’s head bobs on his neck like a rag doll, Chanyeol holding his hips steady so he can slam straight into Jongin’s pleasure spot, unable to close his mouth or speak out.

“Scream omega,” Chanyeol’s growl reaches him over the deafening rush of blood in his ears, “scream for me. Be mine.”

When Chanyeol doesn’t slow down even as his knot swells and stretches Jongin out, Jongin has no choice. Chanyeol twists his thrusts, switches the angle, bends Jongin lower, abusing his prostate and wrenching screams from his lips, saliva dripping onto the couch for every time Jongin is pulled up and then getting a faceful of it as Chanyeol fucks into him and sends him face first into the leather.

Jongin feels like Chanyeol is coming into his womb as the alpha holds him still when his orgasm ruptures through him. He feels the vibrations of his groan to the tip of his upturned head, feels his knot test the bounds of ass.

And then Jongin is flailing as Chanyeol moves him away from the couch and into open air. His hands barely touch the floor, his head spinning as the world stands upside down. Chanyeol is still secured inside him, cum trapped, and with elation that makes him giggle, Jongin realizes he’s hanging off Chanyeol’s knot as the alpha recovers.

“Chanyeol,” Jongin says through a barely contained smile.

“Yes baby,”

It would be impossible to tell from the events of the past half hour but Jongin colours deeper at the endermearment, how Chanyeol squeezes one of his asscheeks and has that affection in his voice again. “Fuck me again. Fuck me like this.”

“You’re not just a messy boy but a needy one too.” it sounds like a praise.

“Please alpha Chan.”

Chanyeol doesn’t need any more encouragement.

He fucks Jongin as if he didn’t already fuck him two rounds, as if Jongin hasn’t lost count of how many orgasms he has had this day, as if Jongin isn’t trying to find purchase on the floor and losing it each time, scrambling forward with each thrust and Chanyeol behind him every step of the way. He fucks Jongin like he’s delivering the extent of his promise, like he’s making up for the several months of heat and in between fucks he missed, like he could keep fucking Jongin until his next heat. Jongin has never felt such pleasure, even as his windpipe fails him several times, as his ass already protests from the manhandling, as his cock twitches and strains for come he’s too spent to produce.

Against his wishes, his body gives out and even Chanyeol can no longer keep them up so he follows him to the ground, coming in Jongin again as Jongin spasms, legs twisting and shaking under Chanyeol’s bigger body pinning him down.

Chanyeol falls to his side, prompting Jongin into the same position. He wraps his arms around his waist and kisses the poppies he created on Jongin’s neck, whispering something that sounds like _fuck_ and _incredible_ as exhaustion knocks Jongin out.

 

When they wake, Chanyeol carries Jongin to the shower where he fucks him slowly against the tiled walls, lathering shampoo in his hair and indulging Jongin every time he leans up for a kiss. They don’t make it out of the bathroom before Chanyeol is bending Jongin over the sink. When they come out to get dressed, Chanyeol lies on the bed and pulls Jongin’s ass onto his face and eats him out in a way that has Jongin hugging Chanyeol’s thigh and rutting against the alpha’s stomach, begging him to go a little deeper. There’s no point in dressing afterwards since Chanyeol is determined to christen every inch of the house with their scent, their touch, as he bends Jongin over the dining table and knots him again.

Two hours later Jongin rides Chanyeol in the moonlight, on the sunlounger in the backyard. Chanyeol watches him, watches him lift his hips and sink back down on his cock slowly, his face contorting with every ounce of pleasure. He caresses Jongin’s hips lazily, giving Jongin's cock a stroke every so often before resting back and letting Jongin do as he wills.

“Kiss me.” he says after a while, reaching out for Jongin to lean down into his arms. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”

“Then why were you such an asshole?” Jongin retorts, circling his hips and getting a grunt out of Chanyeol.

“I— fuck— didn’t—” Chanyeol grips Jongin’s hips again, his eyes illuminated, “—just—” Jongin rolls his hips forward, smooth as wave and fitting deep, the thrill of having Chanyeol struggle like this exalting, “stop.” Chanyeol sits up swiftly, as if he can’t take Jongin’s pleasure punishment and holds Jongin’s hips still so he can’t move. Jongin smirks at him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“What were you saying, alpha Chan?”

Chanyeol throbs inside him and Jongin feels so much satisfaction at having identified something that makes his alpha tick.

“I said,” Chanyeol twists an arm around Jongin’s waist, another around his neck and holds him close, “I wasn’t ready for a mate.”

“And you think I was?”

“No. I’m sorry.” Chanyeol says earnestly, running unthinking circles on Jongin’s skin.

Jongin nods, lacking bitterness or lingering anger to withhold forgiveness.

“Are you ready for a mate now?” Jongin asks in an equally hushed tone, more afraid of the answer than he cares to admit.

“I’m not sure.” Chanyeol says, looking at him earnestly. Jongin feels the emotions gathering to lodge in his throat and eyes. “But I know that I don’t want to be the type of alpha whose mate has to take dangerous suppressants to get through heat when I’m here. I don’t want to be the alpha who is hated by their mate or is terrified of.”

“You’re going to have to prove that, alpha.” Jongin smiles, cupping Chanyeol’s face, fingers sliding up into his hair to caress.

“Tell me how.” Chanyeol returns his smile, giving Jongin’s waist a squeeze.

“Start by kissing me. Then fuck me, alpha. My balls are getting cold.”

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> i didn't get time to write the epilogue so hopefully you can get to see what becomes of them soon ^^ 
> 
> come talk to me on twitter: [@miraclesnapril](https://twitter.com/miraclesnapril)
> 
> my dearest recipient: [@sekaiyuy](https://twitter.com/sekaiyuy)
> 
> thank you for reading ♡


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